Enchanted Promise
by Silmarwen Vanimedle
Summary: Finished! Belle had a choice that night to ride home with Felipe, or take Beast back to the castle. What if she left him? The characters are much darker and situations more intense in this dramatic alternate Disney wouldn't publish.
1. the promise

            Belle thrust the door open to her quaint cottage, her father sick and weeping inside.  "Papa," she coaxed, throwing her cloak down and running to his side.  "Papa, I'm home, don't worry."  The confused old gent looked up and wiped his eyes.

            "Belle?  Is that you?  How did you…you…"

            "Quiet, Papa, you need sleep," she whispered, pulling her worn father into his small bed.  She filled a pan with hot water and immediately started tea.  The thunder clapped outside and she quickly closed the door.  Felipe was safely resting in the back pen.  Everything would be right again now.  Soon Maurice was sleeping soundlessly, and Belle could retie her wet tresses back.  Relaxing into a chair beside her, she sighed deeply, still shaken up.  Her arm was bruised, but all right.  Those horrid wolves, she shivered, they could have killed me.  If they didn't, _he would have, she thought.  That…beast was uncontrollable.  He would have killed me and my father._

            The beast lay upon the cold blanket, the wolves scattered far and wide.  They would not return for his body.  No one would.  A deep chill set in and his wounds remained untended.  From the vines surrounding him, a magic arose, and the enchantress was there.  Draped with beauty and the winter's charm, the gracious fairy sadly looked down upon the quickly leaving carcass of her beastly prisoner.  "My prince," she whispered, her heavenly form lowering down next to his ruffled fur.  "My prince, why do you sleep?"  He replied not, now his wide chest barely moving.  Her pure fingers ran over his arm and face, healing the open scratches and bites the canines had inflicted.  Slowly, a deep blue eye opened and he once again drew breath.  Heavy mist flew from his nostrils in heavy snorts, not able to move, not sure of where to go.

            "I…I live," he moaned, words barely audible.  As soon as he realized who kneeled before him, terror filled his soul and he growled roughly.  "Tell me…tell me now!  Do I live?"  He questioned her angelic presence.  She smiled, only faintly and placed her palm between his twisted horns.

            "My prince, you deceive death tonight."  He listened intently, still receiving deeper inhales.  "I pull you from this fate because you owe me a promise.  A collection is still upon the stalk of my rose."  Her eyes flash and she rises to a stand.  He blinks, eyes darting about for any others.  "Stand," she commands, and he obeys.  He gains balance upon four limbs.  "Stand and return to the castle.  You still have your covenant time to love, and find love.  For your bravery tonight, you will live until you are twenty-five."  The beast backed, moaning deeply and turning his shoulder.

            "Twenty-five?  Four more years I am forced to stay alive?  At least when I am a full-blooded monster, I may choose to die, but now with this false hope, you wish for me to suffer more?"  The enchantress extended her arms and thunder echoed.  Her innocence was gone, replaced with power.

            "You will accept this gift as you did not accept mine.  Four more years you are given for showing love for another."  The beast cried out, voice resounding from the silent timbers.  He covered his disfigured visage with a wide paw, eyes wincing shut.

            "Tell me the truth, Sorceress."  She paused, awaiting his question.  "There is another reason why I am alive.  Tell me why you rescued me."  She smiled, not pleasantly, but with taunt.

            "It seems as if your destiny is taking a different turn than expected.  I hope you have not grown to love your cage."  With that, she was mist, and he ran into the clouds to find her.

            "No!  Come…come leave me dead!"  He was unattended.  Alone, in the cold, he was forced to try and understand what she meant.  Four more years, he throbbed.  He turned, in the shadow of his castle.  Four more years in darkness I will wander.


	2. no better

Lumiere pace uneasily before the master's chambers, muttering French nothings while Cogsworth went on about how he was right.  "I honestly don't see what the problem is," the haughty upright clock moaned.  "It gives the master longer to try and find someone to love!  I really have gotten used to being a household item, I haven't liked it, but I've gotten used to it."

            "No, you do not understand," Lumiere hissed.  "She was the one!  Now we know, otherwise, our master would be dead and we would be trapped forever.  We have to get her to come back, there is no other hope!"

            "Now Lumiere," the motherly tea pot coaxed.  "Don't get ahead of yourself.  Not three hours ago that girl ran from this castle with her life in her hands.  It's going to be hard to get her to come back."

            "We don't even know where she lives!"  There was a deep silence after a painful roar came from inside the room.  Their voices had risen too high.  "Quiet…you'll upset the master more."

            "We have hope, my friends, hope!" Lumiere exclaimed.  "Tomorrow, we will go to the village and find the girl.  We tell her destiny waits, and…"

            "She comes running back to the beast who nearly killed her?" Cogsworth sarcastically finished.  "Sounds like a plan, my candled friend."

            "Surely she believes in love," Lumiere continued, gazing off into the dark halls of the west wing.  "With any luck, love will lure her back."

            "Belle?  Belle!  I demand you open this door!"  Belle rolled her chestnut eyes and laid her book aside.  Her father was still sleeping, sick but getting better.  She peeped through the contraption to see who it was, as if she didn't know.  "Belle!  You'll not turn me down again!"

            "Gaston, I can't let you in.  My father has taken ill, and I need to stay with him," Belle answered sternly back.  Lefou's insane laughter was heard, muffled by the door.  Belle stayed near it to make sure he didn't try and burst in.

            "Gaston, she's playing hard to get," Lefou whispered.  "That crazy father of hers is holding her back!"  Gaston, outside, rifle still on his back and thick chin in his hand, nodded and walked along the small cottage to the back.

            "Belle?  Belle!" he shouted from the back kitchen.  The young beauty rushed to the back of the house to lock that door as well.  "You can't stay in there forever!"

            "Why not let me try!" she yelled back.  "Go away!"  Gaston's anger was beginning to build.  He gave the back door a hearty kick, scaring Belle back and bending the wood.

            "You don't know what you're missing," he grumbled, turning back to the road towards town.  "She's insane," he growled to Lefou.  "Her father's turning her insane!"

            "Tales about beasts and castles; it's those books that are ruining her!" Lefou shouted.  Gaston stopped, struck with a rare thought.

            "The books…of course!  You're right, she's always reading books.  Those stupid stories about princes and magic!  It's a load of deer dung!"

            "The more she's reading, the more she's wasting away about fairy tales," Lefou added.  Gaston grimace and nodded.

            "We may not catch her today, Lefou," Gaston spat.  "But we'll see how _hard to get when she can't read any more of her precious made-up stories."_

            Beast held the rose close to his wide shoulder, softly crying into the glass.  All hope was surely gone now.  She was a miracle, a beautiful angel in a work of darkness.  And now, she was gone.  No matter what that witch said, he sobbed, she wouldn't return.  Not to this forsaken place.  Not to a monstrosity, an evil lord like himself.  This was what was meant to be, he decided.  Years of having a cold heart had brought him something worse than death.   


	3. unexpected visitors

The old bookkeeper was dusting off his top shelves when the small bell on his door rang.  He turned, smiling, already knowing who would be there so early.  "Belle, I don't believe you've finished that book already…"  He looked up through his spectacles to see Gaston scowling back at him with Lefou standing stupidly at this side.  "Well," the gent said, fixing his glasses.  "I thought I knew everyone in town."

            "My name is Gaston," Gaston introduced haughtily.

            "Lefou," his lackey supplied.

            "I'd like to speak with you, if I could," Gaston said, sitting himself down at the keeper's desk.  Once again, the keeper adjusted his glasses in confusion and slowly climbed off of the ladder.

            "Well, sure, I guess."

            "What exactly do you do here," Gaston inquired, setting his muddy boots on a pile of papers.  The man started to protest, but Lefou gave him an angry sneer.

            "This is a library," the keeper stated.  "I lend books to people and occasionally let them buy them, if they like."  Gaston picked up a random story and flipped through the pages.

            "What are they about," Lefou demanded, trying to look through one upside down.  "I don't see any pictures, any maps!"

            "They're stories!" the keeper burst.  "They're about different lands and times, history and fantasy…"

            "Fantasy," Gaston interrupted.  "Fairy tales.  Useless wastes of paper."

            "Perhaps if you read a book, you'd understand," the keeper scolded.  Gaston scoffed and tossed his book aside.  Lefou did the same, but knocked over a canister of pencils.  He scrambled to try and replace them.

            "Just as I thought."  Gaston stood and headed for the door.  Flinging the door open, he paused, turning and lifting a finger to the old man.  "You just wait," he threatened.  "I'll take care of this little waste of space."  With that, he left, leaving the door to knock Lefou back.  He soon scurried after.  While crossing the busy village street, Gaston spotted Belle trying to sneak by.  She had covered her head in a scarf and was carrying a basket.  He quickly blocked her path.  "Belle!"

            "Gaston, if you please," she said quietly, keeping her head down and her items close to her side.  "I need to be going."

            "Where?  To the bookstore?" he said slyly, motioning to the small shop.  "Well, it will be your last trip."  Belle looked up, terror filling her eyes.  Was he threatening one of the things she cherished in her small home?

            "What are you talking about," she murmured.

            "I think I've had enough with you reading books about made-up phooey.  You know, Belle, if I wanted to close the bookstore, I could.  I'm a very powerful man."  With a newfound rage, Belle pushed by him.

            "Powerful perhaps, but a man, no!"  Gaston gasped, Lefou's mouth gaping.  The arrogant hunter clenched a fist and started after her, but halted.  Belle slipped into the bookstore while Gaston spun off to the tavern.  He would need to think about his next move.

            "Monsieur?" Belle called softly, looking about the small store.  "Are you here?"

            "Belle!" he replied, still shaken.  "Thank goodness."

            "I just ran into Gaston, please; tell me, what did he tell you?"  The keeper shook his head, stammering.

            "Don't…don't you worry about it, he won't close me.  He can't keep everyone from wanting to learn!"  Belle was shocked.  He planned to close the bookstore.  Without another word, she proceeded to return home.  Walking up over the hill, she looked up to her peaceful cottage and gasped.  An old, broken carriage with no wheels was in front of her door, lopsided, and open.


	4. turning back

Belle stepped inside of her home to find Lumiere, Cogsworth, Ms. Potts, and Chip all talking with her father, still in bed.  She gasped and dropped her basket filled with rolls.  Lumiere turned and smiled, hopping over.  "Belle!  You've returned!"

            "Lumiere?  Cogsworth?" she exclaimed in surprise.  "What are you doing here?'

            "We had to come back, dear," Ms. Potts exclaimed.  "You see…"

            "You left something at the castle," Cogsworth exploded.  "Something very important…your…your cloak!"  Lumiere and Ms. Potts glared at his substitute.  Belle sighed and took a seat next to her father's side.  

            "I don't care," she said.  "There is no way I'm going back to the castle."  Chip hopped into her lap and looked up with teary eyes.

            "You don't like us?" he whimpered.  Belle smiled and took him in her hand.

            "Of course I do, I just…I belong here with my father."

            "Are you sure about that, my dear?" Lumiere said, leaping across the bed.  Her father coughed, leaning forward.

            "They've been telling me about the beast, Belle," Maurice said.  Belle looked to her father, wondering what he was talking about.  "He needs you dearly."  She scowled and stood up, not able to contain her confusion.

            "He threw me out!  He told me to leave him be!"

            "You ran away!" Cogsworth rebutted.  "He never really asked you to go!"

            "He hasn't a friend in the world," Ms. Potts sympathetically said.  "You were the only light in his life."

            "He just put it out," Belle said, not wanting to compromise.  "No one could ever love such a beast, why would he want a friend."  At once, each of their faces fell.  Lumiere's candles dimmed, nearly out.  Chip even began to cry, weeping into Maurice's pillow.

            "There's no hope then," Lumiere said.  "We are like this forever."  There was a deep pause in which Belle slowly turned to face them.

            "Is he all right?" she asked softly, walking closer.  "I…I left in him the cold…"

            "He's fighting a chill and death, dear," Ms. Potts sadly replied.  "We dishes can only do so much."

            "Go back, Belle," Maurice pleaded.  "I know he's a monster, but were once his loyal servants.  They know him, and I trust their word.  He won't hurt you."  Belle looked in shock to her father.  These magical creatures had bewildered her father into thinking anything about that beast was harmless.  Chip looked up at her with such hopeless eyes, though; Belle's heart began to turn more.

            "I'll go back, but only to nurse him back to health."  A sigh of relief passed through the different items.  Lumiere gave a shout of exclamation and threw his candlesticks about Cogsworth.

            "Hey, hey hey!  Stop that!" the little clock scolded.  Belle laughed, getting her cloak once more.

            "I'll leave at once," she said, pulling the coat about her.  "But as soon as…as he's back to himself, I'm coming back, Papa."  Maurice scrambled to his feet, opening the door.

            "I'll be fine without you—look, I'm already walking.  I'm going to get right back to work on the wood chopper.  I'll make it to the convention yet!"  

            "Oh, Papa…" Belle sighed, shaking her head.  "Let's go, Lumiere, you lead the way."   


	5. return

The castle was just as gloomy and frightening as before.  Belle clung to the inside of the enchanted carriage, Lumiere and Cogsworth going on about all of the fun they would have.  "Oh Belle, we'll have a feast once the Master sees your return, you just wait!  The singing and dancing…"

            "I've got your favorite tea waiting for you, dear," Ms. Potts reassured.  Belle smiled to them softly, fear still crippling her mind.  As the gables of the castle rose higher and closer, she grew more and more fearful.  Would the Beast welcome her back?  Would he be angry that she didn't help him?

            "We're here!" Cogsworth announced.  Belle stepped into the cold wind as the carriage dropped to a halt.  The canine footrest greeted them barking, giving the knick-knacks a ride in.  Belle patted its tassels lovingly, watching the tall dark windows for any signs of shadows.  Let's try this again, she thought.

            "Hello?" she called inside, Lumiere quickly lighting all of the torches.  It was as magnificent as she remembered.  The back hall seemed to twist about as she followed it to the main living room.  There, the heavy form of the Beast rested uneasily on the couch.  A sense of protection rushed over her and she moved to his side quietly.  Various household items were caring for him, but it was obvious he needed a nurse.  "Oh, quick," she began, not even removing her coat.  "I need a towel and wrap of some sort."  The firelight now spread across the Beast's scarred face.  His blue eyes rolled over in surprise to see her.  Immediately, he grew tense.

            "Master, we've brought you help.  Belle will know how to care for you."  The Beast tried to sit up, but couldn't.  He had refused food for days.

            "Let…make her…go…" he muttered.  A painful moan stole his words.  She gasped, grasping for the provided towel and wrap, busy at work.  

            "How could…how could I have left you," she wept, wiping at her eyes between cleaning his untouched wounds.  "Even if you…it doesn't matter."  Something came over the Beast in seeing her cry.  A face so sweet and distant, pouring out over a monster as disgusting as him.  He winced, the pain eternal magnifying the sting from his cuts.  

            "You…you don't belong here…"  The servants were silent.  They looked to each other in confusion, the moments being drawn and tense.  Belle continued to try and help the Beast, but from the look in her eyes, they were scared for their beloved Master's life.  

            "I belong where I'm needed," she replied sternly, pulling the wraps tighter about his massive arms.  He watched her, wondering her true intent.  Would she stay?

            "Master, don't be afraid of her," Ms. Potts coaxed while pouring another cup of hot water.  "She can get you walking again."  He suddenly turned fiercely, snorting and sitting upward.  Belle could tell it was painful do to so, but he was out of reach of her nursing.

            "I don't want to walk, I don't want to live!" he roared.  Belle cowered back, hiding in his shadow.  Lumiere scowled and rustled up the courage he had left, storming onto the couch armrest.

            "Master, Belle has graciously agreed to help you get your heath back.  We can only ask that you treat her with the respect she deserves!"

            "Let her graciously leave me again!"  He lifted to his feet, but fell heavily.  Belle shouted as he hit his side, eyes falling closed.  He tried to stand again, but failed.

            "Bring me a blanket," Belle said quietly, still unsure of what he would do.  "Please." 


	6. saved

Belle sat in front of the crackling fire, watching the golden flames with dull fatigue.  Her modest ribbon had let go of stray chestnut strands, which hung in front of the spidery digits spread across her forehead.  The others had left, tending to the house as it was needed, and she was alone with the sleeping beast.  Slowly, she turned to look at him.  They had managed to get him back on the elderly sofa, and now his oversized frame was sprawled heavily across its velvet.  He was wrapped, clean, but underweight, for whatever animal he was.  Belle watched his eyes, cringed shut in a sort of painful cower.  She wondered if every dream of his was a nightmare.

            "Belle, dear, a spot of tea?"  She turned to see the serving table rolling quietly to a stop.  Ms. Potts was already filling Chip.  Belle smiled and took him gingerly, nearly too tired to drink.

            "He's going to be all right," she said, clearing her throat as the warm herbs rushed down.  "I imagine he'll sleep for days, but he's going to be fine when he wakes."  A sigh caused steam to billow up from the pot's spout.  Chip giggled in Belle's grasp.  She smiled, setting him back down.

            "We can't thank you enough for what you've done," Ms. Potts sincerely said.  "I don't think you could ever understand…well…"  The small kettle looked down, motioning for the tray to retreat.  "Thank you, dear.  'Tis a greater thing you do now then any of this castle has seen."  Belle nodded, almost sadly, and blinked.  Her tiredness was slowly conquering her.  "Child?"  Belle slowly blinked and looked up, her hand falling.  "Why don't you follow me to bed?  You'll not travel anywhere tonight."  Belle agreed, too tired to do any other, and stumbled along the dark castle to her original guest room.  There, the wardrobe and other luxuries were more than welcoming.  

            As Belle's eyes fell closed, the Master's relaxed.

            For once, there was peace in the castle.


	7. a new day

The next morning, Belle was awoken by the self-sweeping drapes. Rubbing at her eyes, she was shocked to see that it was half-past noon. It had been a very late night. Lumiere knocked politely on the door outside, the faint tapping having originally drawn her from slumber. Suddenly remembering where she was, she stammered an answer. "Come in," she called. "Come in!" Lumiere cracked the door open and shuffled in.

"_Bon matin, ma cherie_," he cheerfully greeted. "My, how the day has escaped us!" Belle rose to her feet, finding she was somehow dressed in the castle's nightclothes. The events of the past night were a blur, a haze lost in some wild dream. She rushed to the window, and then to the door. Lumiere watched, not sure of her confusion. "Are you…is there…"

"Lumiere?" she asked, stopping and turning to him dozily. "Lumiere, the Beast…"

"Sleeps, my dear," he continued. "You need not worry of him now. You look famished, Belle, please come for lunch." Belle sat back down the bed, incoherent to the wardrobe discussing her dress for the day.

"I…I feel like there is so much to do…"

"Well, you are right." Belle glanced to the door; Ms. Potts was present on a small tea tray. She beamed, Chip dancing about her with the sugar and cream. "You said you would stay for the Master's healing, would you not?" Belle nodded, intrigued at her proposal. "There is still a bit of work to do around here, Belle, and you are the only one who can do it."

"Ms. Potts," Lumiere nudged, trying to be sly. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this castle," she pouted, sticking her lip as tea poured from her spout. "It's like a morgue in here, and that certainly isn't going to inspire a pri—" She caught herself at Lumiere's bursting eye and restarted. "To inspire a Master that's battling death himself!" Belle paused, not quite understanding. Lumiere caught on to the idea and his three flames flickered with enlightenment.

"But of course! Belle, take a look at this castle! It's as if all gloom and darkness have decided to come here for vacation. When the Master wakes up, let us nurture his soul with a bit of light about here!"

"A few flowers wouldn't hurt," Cogsworth commented from the bottom rack of the tray. Lumiere beamed at his approval of the plan. "This place was beautiful once."

"He…was beautiful once," Ms. Potts gravely added. Belle toyed with the addition before Lumiere once again exploded with excitement.

"Why can't we have a bit of fun!" the candelabra resolved. "We're going to make this castle something worth waking up to!"

"If you'll help," Ms. Potts pleaded, moving closer to Belle. The young beauty had been pondering on these suggestions, and with a brave smile, she nodded.

"I…I guess I could help you out a bit. It's a big castle."


	8. brighter the rose

            The cheerful bookkeeper opened the door to his humble shop, whistling happily as he stepped in.  "Five new books today," he sang quietly, finding his desk.  Setting down his new ventures, he picked up his pen and began to record their names.  As soon as the tip touched his book, the ink splotted at the shattering sound of his door being broken.  Gaston and Lefou swaggered in, a mob of townspeople behind him.  "What's going on!" the shopkeeper cried, standing.  "What are you doing here?"

            "Over there, men, start pulling these shelves apart!"

            "Gaston, look at this!  A big blue ball with all sorts of…"

            "That's my globe!" the bookkeeper shouted, catching his glasses from falling off his nose.  "I demand to know what you are doing here!"  Gaston turned to the elder with a sneer.  Scowling, he laughed as an angry follower broke a stand full of history books.

            "We're getting rid of this little shop of rebellion.  Books are causing problems in the village, and we've decided that these…books must go."

            The Beast's head throbbed something horrible, pulling him from his shady dreams.  Opening his eyes, he found himself not in the dark, dim den…but a well lit, nearly cheerful living room.  Shocked and a bit scared, he lay still, eyes rolling about to see if anyone was watching him.  Slowly, but soon more confidently, he sat up.  His head swam, and he clutched at it with a moan.  He was horribly hungry and his back ached.  "It feels like I slept for days," he muttered, mostly under his breath.

            "You did, sire," Ms. Potts said shyly from her place on the tray.  "Care for something to eat?"  The Beast turned to her in surprise.

            "Ms. Potts," he recognized.  "What happened?  I feel like…"  Suddenly, his eyes caught up with him.  As they scaled the grand ceilings and tapestries, he noticed everything was bathed in light.  Color had found them again, and for once, his spirits eased a bit.  "What happened?" he asked again, voice in disbelief.

            "Don't you mind a thing, sire," Ms. Potts replied gently, pouring a new cup.  "You just rest and find strength."  Suddenly, he winced and dropped to his side again.  It was still blurry about him, but one figure that slipped into his view was quite distinctive.  Was it his dreams, or was the girl before him?

            "Is he all right?" he heard the soft voice ask.  Ms. Potts clattered about the cart before bubbling her top and inching closer to the edge.

            "Better you wait a moment before trying to ask of anything, my dear, he's still a bit lost."

            "Who is it?" The Beast moaned.  "Who's there?"

            "It's me," Belle quietly ventured.  "Belle."  A numbness filled the Beast's heart as his eyes focused on the tired young maiden.  He didn't have to ask where the light and joy in the palace had come from.  It was in the slight smile upon her pale, worked expression.  "Are you awake enough to eat?"  He was stunned; she had come back?  How long had she been here?  It all rushed over him in flashes and scenes.  He had roared, a horrible, unnecessary fight—she had left in a hurry, but he knew she wouldn't get far.  He had gone after her…was she now coming after him?  Lumiere appeared with another tray.  This one had a bowl with a thick, wonderful smelling soup.

            "Sire, you must eat!" Lumiere excitedly presented.  "Eat, please."  Belle looked down and stepped out of the way.

            "I…I'll go get another blanket.  It's getting cold in here again."  She turned and fled to the halls.  The Beast watched her go, slow in reaction but still quick and confused in mind.

            "Why…why is she here?" he demanded, the edge fading from his voice.

            "She came back to help you," Ms. Potts explained.

            "She came back?"

            "Well," Cogsworth intruded, popping up from behind the meal, "we actually had to go an---"

            "But of course!" Lumiere shouted with vigor, shoving the table clock out of the way.  He tumbled onto the footrest, arguments muffled.  "She must have seen the real you, Master!  The you that we all adore and love."  The Beast looked longingly at Lumiere, the candelabra's romantic performance awfully convincing.  He carefully gazed towards the hall, still ignoring the food.

            "She…came back for me?"  Ms. Potts worriedly glanced from the struggling Cogsworth to Lumiere.  The candlestick forced a smile and nodded.

            "Why else would she be here?"  A warm, foreign feeling came over the Beast; he wasn't sure what it was, or what it could be, but he found himself able to sit up and hold his horned brow.  She had come back; and back, for him. 


	9. a petal falls

            There was a heavy knock upon the echoing castle door.  Belle rushed to it in the cold silence that had filled the front foyer.  The Beast was sleeping again after his first meal and would not be disturbed.  She struggled to open the massive portal, but cracked it just enough so that the chill could not rush in.  It was her father.  "Papa!" she cried, immediately bringing him in.  Maurice pulled his cloak closer about his shoulders, brushing off the frost.  "Papa, you're not well!  What are you doing up here in the cold!"

            "Belle, I just had to tell you!  Something horrible is happening in the village!"

            "Come inside to the kitchen, Papa, it's warm by the stove."  Maurice nodded, glancing about the dark corners and shadowed stairs.  He noticed how his daughter moved through the palace as if it were her own, but he knew better.  A monster lurked from window to window, and it was his walls that surrounded them.  "Papa?"  He pulled his eyes from the split staircase leading to the back halls and jogged to the dining room.

            "It's just horrible," Maurice stammered, sitting at the table and sipping tea.  Ms. Potts was listening carefully along with Belle and Lumiere.  Maurice was so pale and shaken; Belle could only think the worse.  "Gaston, he's taking over the village!"  Upon hearing the words, Belle sighed and shook her head.

            "You can't worry about Gaston, Papa, he can't even make it through town without that Lefou telling him what to do each day."

            "You don't understand," Maurice fearfully argued.  Chip was shivering from the draft coming from Maurice's clothes.  "He's riled them all on his side.  They've closed down the bookshop and turned it into a trophy case for all of his meaningless awards!"  Belle's beloved bookstore was missing?  She frowned and slammed the table top with a fury none had seen.  Chip rattled, his contents splashing about.  Ms. Potts hopped over to keep him still, alarmed at Belle's out lash.

            "_Je ne peux pas le croire_!  Why would he do something like this?"

            "He's changing the way everyone thinks!  He says the village needs less of this and more of that, but most of all, everyone is listening!  Our own town hall might turn into a hunting pub."  Belle leapt to her feet and snatched Lumiere into her hand.

            "Where are you going?" Lumiere whispered as she carried him to the front hall.  "You must wake the Master and tell him before you leave?"

            "No, I won't worry him," she replied.  Maurice was close behind as Ms. Potts and Chip raced along on the tea cart.  "He should sleep as much as he can."

            "What will he think to wake up and find you gone?" Lumiere asked.

            "What would he think if I were here?" Belle demanded, facing the small creature.  Lumiere glanced down; he had said too much.  She placed him on an available ledge as she grabbed her coat.  "Papa and I must return to the village and solve this mess before Gaston takes over the whole town."  Lumiere looked to Ms. Potts for help, but she was equally worried and shocked.  "I will try and return for…him."  Lumiere nodded sorrowfully and Ms. Pott's expression fell.  Even Chip knew this would prolong their master plan.  Belle looked one more time to each of her friends.  "I…I must go."

            "Belle, Felipe is waiting!" Maurice cried from the front lawn's view.  She ran to the open door.  In a swirl of freezing air, she was gone.  The wind was so fierce it blew Lumiere cold.  Ms. Potts shivered even though she was full of steaming tea.  The castle was dark again.  

            "They have left," Lumiere quietly realized.  "She has left us again."

            "She said she would try and return," Ms. Potts countered.  Lumiere sadly shook his head, not bothering to light himself again.

            "It will be too late by then.  Too late for him and her."  


	10. mirror mirror

            The Beast had made his way some how to the west wing.  His servants faithfully tried to keep up with him, but his mad rage left them behind.  Thrashing to find his mirror, he demanded that he see Belle.  She had left him again, and he wanted to see why.  She passed through his manor as he slept like an unwanted wind.  The glass began to swirl and change; a sage picture appeared.

            _Belle stormed into the main bar with a determination like no other.  "Gaston!" she shouted, "where is Gaston!"  The crowd quieted and looked to the drafty door.  A man sneered and set his frothy mug aside._

_            "Look, it's both of those crazy lunatics!  We don't want to hear your stories, so go home!"  Belle would not be ignored.  She approached the man and grabbed the collar of his shirt sternly.  He toppled from his chair in her grasp, trembling._

_            "Tell me where Gaston is or you won't hear a horror story!"  Maurice gasped.  The fire under the portrait of the town leader crackled as a shadow rose before it._

_            "Calm down, Belle, there's no need to rough anyone up!"  The voice was with a familiar disdain.  She dropped the old man and move towards the stranger.  The form turned and pulled at his chin, simpering a disgusting smile.  "Although, I do like this stronger side of you, of course, given it's controlled."_

_            "You snake," Belle spat, losing all bashfulness before him.  "What do you think you're doing?"  Gaston stared into her fiery eyes; he knew she would never strike him.  He looked to her shaking father, huddled in a corner far from the others.  _

_            "I thought perhaps I could reach you through your father, Belle," he thought aloud, "but that plan wasn't as sure as my next."_

_            "Where is the bookkeeper, Gaston?  Alone on the street?" Belle cried._

_            "I came up with the most wonderful plan, my Belle!  What if I can take a village that already thinks you're a threat, and turn them against you so that the only way you and your father can live here in peace is to, well, how can I say this…"  He coldly jeered wider as Belle's aggressiveness disappeared.  "Maybe you should be associated with a more popular member of the community."  Belle backed away, reaching for her father.  Maurice stumbled to her side.  She looked to those she once thought were kind, caring people.  Even some she might consider friends.  They gaped at her with such strangeness it made her have chills.  Lefou was visible now, handing beers to everyone and giggling at Gaston's left._

_            "A more popular member, that's good Gaston!" he snickered._

_            "What…what are you saying?" Belle whispered._

_            "Marry me, Belle," Gaston shouted.  "Or you will leave this town, perhaps with your father, maybe without."  Belle's eyes darted to the manager of the insane asylum.  He was drumming his fingers in agreement.  She was utterly alone, except of her father, but as the town surrounded them in harsh silence, he gave her no confidence._

            The Beast roared a heavy, horrible scream.  The immense pain in his soul ran through his bones like knives upon knives.  Lumiere and Cogsworth cowered in the shadow of the doorway, for never such a shriek had been heard.  The Beast hurled the mirror into the wall.  It did not shatter nor scratch, for it was magical, but the picture disbanded as quickly as it had formed.  He fell onto the small table containing the rose and covered his pouring eyes.  Its dull light spread over his broken brow.  Slowly, his blue eyes moved upon it.  His wide claw began to cover the glass, and soon grown tense as if he were to launch too.  Lumiere's visage expanded and he clambered forward.  "No, Master, you mustn't!"

            "Why not," the Beast growled.  "I have nothing more to live for."

            "She might return," Lumiere calmed.  "She said she might return for you!"

            "She will not leave her father," the Beast argued.

            "Have hope still, Master," Lumiere coaxed.  "Leave the flower, please."  The Beast hesitated before the too well-known sulk moved over his features.  The harshness was gone, and he was beyond heart broken.  Dragging his limbs, he left the dark chambers and trudged down the stairs.  Lumiere had never seen him in such low spirits. 

            "Will he be all right?" Cogsworth inquired.  Lumiere shook his head.

            "I do not know, my friend, I do not know."__


	11. cages

            Belle wept with no hendrence; her mind swam in tears as if they had no end.  There was no hope for her now.  If she left the village, they would most likely take her father.  If she stayed, she would have the marry the true beast.  Suddenly, a wave of comfort came over her.  The Beast!  She had spent the night crying and had forgotten about him.  From the window, she could see sunlight peering through.  Her true friends would be able to help her.  Leaping to her feet, she searched for her cloak.  Papa would see Felipe gone when he woke and realize where she'd gone, if she could only get some more bandages…the door refused to open.  Through her frustration she began to jerk at the small handle harder.  "Belle?"  She had disturbed her father.  "Belle, what's going on?"  She glanced to the window.  There was a blockade made of iron and bent nails over thick wooden boards.  They were looked in her house.  Someone was standing near the door—Belle began to pound on the glass.  

            "Do you hear something, Lefou?" Gaston said while brushing his gloved hands.  The troublesome moron stumbled over a pile of wood he had dropped.

            "No, nothing at all, Gaston."  Gaston shrugged and looked over the small cottage once before heading back for the main road to town.

            "Such a silly little house…Belle will be glad to finally have a real castle."

            "You're so right, Gaston!"  Belle furiously tore herself from the window.  It was no use.  She was trapped.  How could she tell the Beast?  Alone, she slowly dropped to her feet.  Gaston had finally won.

            Meanwhile, at the castle, Lumiere and Cogsworth paced bath and forth over the dining room table debating what should be done.  "Why has she not returned?  Surely she has fixed this mess by now."

            "Lumiere, I have a bad feeling about this," Cogsworth officiously rambled.  "I never trusted this girl from the beginning, and now she's forgotten about us again."

            "Surely that is not the case," Ms. Potts argued from the doorway of the kitchen.  "She must be in trouble, some that she can't get out of."

            "That lunitic has her trapped in her house," a fimiliarly dark voice echoed.  There, in the main archway, was the upright shadow of the Beast, his dark form highlited only by his sorrowfully blue eyes.  He was clutching the mirror revealing Belle's lost state.  "She wants to come, but cannot."

            "We must rescue her," Lumiere exclaimed.  "We must get her out of that village!"

            "She can't leave her father," Ms. Potts continued.  "She is going to marry Gaston no matter what."

            "Wait," Cogsworth whispered.  "I have an idea!"  Lumiere rolled his eyes.  "She cannot marry Gaston if she is already married!"  The Beast's drifting gaze darted to the small table clock.

            "What do you mean!" Lumiere shouted.  

            "The Master must propose to her.  If she accepts, Gaston has no right to steal a bride from a prince."  The Beast moved to another corner, trying not to listen.

            "It must work," Ms. Potts added.  "Belle can stay here, and the Master will be himself again!"

            "She doesn't love me," the Beast quietly growled.  "You'll only give her a larger cage."   __


	12. uproar

            Lumiere scowled determinedly and stormed forward.  "It has to work, Master, it is your only chance."  The Beast sighed deeply and finally nodded.  "All right then.  The Master must prepare to enter the village."  Immediately, the cloak rack and bureaus began finding clothes that had not been ripped or torn in aggression.  Another household luxury tried to fix his tousled hair, but he softly pushed them away.  Ms. Potts worriedly caught Cogsworth before he left to direct the carriage.

            "Cogsworth, I suddenly have a bad feeling about this…what will the people think when they see the Master?  They do not know him like we do."

            "They will think the best!" Lumiere stated.  "Isn't he a prince?  They must treat him like one."

            "What if she isn't the one," the Beast sorrowfully asked.  "What if she says no?"

            "Now, now, Master," Ms. Potts comforted.  "Keep your spirits up."  The cloak rack returned with a valiant purple robe, dusty and ridden with moth holes.

            "He can't wear that!" Lumiere exclaimed.  "Do we have anything more suitable?"

            "His Majesty hasn't been out of this castle in two years!" Cogsworth argued.  "How is he supposed to just waltz into town, expecting every bit of respect he deserves!"

            "Quiet!" the Beast roared, the resounding echo of his voice quieting them all and, as usual, distinguishing Lumiere.  "I'll go into the village with nothing more than I have," he ordered.  "I'm going to rescue Belle, and…"

            "Yes!" Lumiere shouted, his little brass frame leaping into the air.  "Master, what genius!  She'll fall madly in love with you as soon as she realizes you've saved her life."  The Beast, cut short, dropped his paw in silent surrender, and slowly retreated to the back door.

            "Master?" Ms. Potts asked, trying to follow him.  "Master, what will you do?"

            "I can't stand for her to be like that," he growled.  "I don't care what happens afterwards, or before, or any time...but I'm going to rescue her."  The door slammed shut, and a cold chill blew through the drafty castle.

            "Well, that went well…" Cogsworth snorted.

            "As the newly elected mayor of this town," Gaston boasted to the crowd.  "I promise to rid this village of any unsightly pests and annoyances!"  The congregation cheered from below the pavilion.  The wooden edifice had been erected only days after Gaston had taken over the village.  The few elders that resisted Gaston's power watched quietly from closed shudders or behind asylum bars.  Maurice was among them, but in his own home.  Belle, however, was in the crowd.  She had escaped by Lefou's dumb mistake of trying to catch her cat, Fille.  From the corner of her hidden eye she could see Bambi, the blonde votary of Gaston's that she had asked to take her place.  Bambi giggled excitedly while twirling one of her brunette curls.  Yes, the dye was a fantastic idea.  

            "Three cheers for Gaston!" Lefou yelped.  The men all echoed a hurray.  The quiet rebel in a heavy black cloak, hobbling through the crowd with a delicate hand over the cane, didn't look up at the corrupted leader.

            "And I promise to never let any more harm to this village, whether it be the form of beast or book!"  Another bright cheer rose in heavy voices.  Gaston's sharp eye fell on a certain old man who seemed quick to exit the throng.  "You, there!" he called.  They turned to the center, where Belle's covered face grew red.  "You there, where are you going?"  Belle halted, shivering under the cape.  She couldn't speak…they'd find her out.

            "I don't think I know you," an old farmer hissed.  As another burly huntsman began to approach her, she thrust the cane into his side and threw the cape down.

            "It's Belle!" Gaston shrieked, thrusting an arm forward.  "Get her!  She's not to be out!"  At first, the people did not respond.  Belle was odd, yes, but harmless in their eyes.  "What are you waiting for?"  Belle was sprinting towards the far road, glancing over her shoulder to see who would follow.  Her thin-covered feet stumbled beneath her and she tripped.  "She's one of the trouble makers!"  A few more loud voices called out in anger, and the swiftest men (along with Gaston) pursued her into the forest.

            "Get her!"

            "She'll free the others!"

            "Don't let her get away!"  The rest of the town began to get anxious, and Lefou whistled to calm them down.  Tearing through the heavy brush, the leaves ripped at Belle's dress and loose hair.  She found herself upon a familiar fork in the road after a winded escape, and the voices of Gaston's company behind her.  Confused and afraid, she pulled the blue ribbon dangling from her locks and ran down the brighter path.  She dropped it in the middle of the road, and crossed over the dividing brush into the dark mist.  

            "This way!" Gaston shouted, thundering ahead, boots tearing through the muddy dirt.  He stopped as soon as the clearing split, the ten or eleven followers behind him skidding to a halt.  

            "Which way was that?" asked the slender blacksmith.  Gaston's fired eyes scanned the two ways.  Suddenly, the frail light caught Bell's bow, trampled on the ground.

            "Here!" Gaston heaved while sprinting to the thread and clawing it from the dirt.  "We go this way!"  The pack continued, screaming and running into the distant forest.  Belle, however, dropped to her knees from exhaustion, cold, lost, and within the shadow of the castle's gates.        


	13. found

            The Beast traveled best on foot.  Crawling through the evening trees, the deep and utter disgust for Gaston that first spawned in his heart grew with every moment he spent in the deathly chill.  Two trails of smoke billowed from his twisted nostrils, cobalt eyes scouring for any sign of that madman.  Amidst the sounds of the forest, however, he heard a soft sob.  He paused, poised upon three limbs, ears focusing under the curled horns for the quiet crying.  There, in the thicket, he saw the moonlight catch the ghostly white skin of some maiden's heel and the blood spilling over it.  He swiftly leapt to the thorny bush, rose blooms hiding Belle's tainted face.  "Belle," he whispered, pushing away the daggered stems.  She looked up, wiping at her dark eyes and cowering a bit in the pinching greenery.  "It's all right," he said, extending a heavy paw.  She placed her shivering hand in it as he gently pulled her from the dirt.

            "What are you doing…" she asked, even more lost than before.  Her head hurt as gashes covered her shins and arms.

            "Look at you," he gasped; the harm he held was nearly blue.  "What did they do to you?"

            "I meant to come back," she wept, losing the feeling in her legs.  He felt her slip from his grip, and his massive arms kept her upright.

            "I…Belle…"  His eyes searched over her broken form as her dark pools fluttered shut.  "They…they are the monsters!"  His voice thundered through the ever-watching trees.  He gently swept her feet into his side and turned back to the manor.  He would have to deal with them later, for Belle's body was limp and cold in his grasp.

            He entered the castle with a blink of silent lightening.  The terrified eyes of the servants fell upon the bundle in Beast's arms.  "Master, is that…?

            "She's stopped breathing," the Beast muttered.  "Lumiere!  Cogsworth!  She's stopped breathing!"  He began to mutter incoherently, laying Belle down on the same bed he was nursed upon and pacing madly.  However, the enchanted objects began gathering things to quickly revive her.  With a warm blanket about her and the cloak rack wrapping her wounds, she was already beginning to gain color in her cheeks.

            "She's deathly ill, Master," Ms. Potts uttered.  "It seems you two run into trouble more than each other."

            "Save her!" the Beast shouted.  "She will not die!"

            "Master, she's going to be fine," Lumiere stammered while rubbing his warm waxes near her face.  "Who did this to her?"

            "I found her along the side of the road," the Beast quietly explained.  Pain filled his eyes with more concern than he had ever felt.  "She looked…she looked so broken…"

            "Why was she running?" Chip asked, having slipped out from behind his mother.

            "Chip, dear, don't bother!" Ms. Potts scolded softly.

            "Running?" Cogsworth repeated.  He scooted to the edge of the tray so he could see her uncovered feet.

            "Look, Cogsworth, her shoes are split through!"  It was true.  The tiny face of the clock drew in a gasping shock as he saw the cut heels of the lass through her thin maiden's shoes.

            "They chased her like dogs," Ms. Potts cursed under her breath.  "Master, what if they followed her here?"  Lumiere looked up to the stalking Beast, the soft glow his hands gave highlighting his frightened expression.  The trapped prince began watching the grand bay windows, the front yard bare of any ruffian hunters.  Suddenly, the creatures clambered back as Belle bolted upright, chocolate orbs wide with terror.

            "No!" she screeched, "leave me be!"  The Beast strode to her side, his wide shadow blocking the firelight.  Each of the servants peeked about his shoulders. 

            "Belle, you're safe," he spoke, stroking her soaked tresses.  Her brow was clammy and lined in sweat.  The cloak rack laid another cloth across the pale, wrinkled crown.  Very slowly, she reclined, but did not relax.  Her hands clenched the side of the soft sofa, her eyes darting from face to face.

            "You're among friends, dear," Ms. Potts sighed.

            "Don't you remember us?" Chip whined softly.  She froze before her visage collapsed in helpless despair, tears falling from her eyes like rain across the stained glass windows.  "Mommy…I made her cry!"

            "Chip, go, please!" Ms. Potts demanded.  

            "What's the matter with her?" Beast pleaded.  "She's hysterical!"

            "She just needs rest," Cogsworth replied worriedly.  "Master, I suggest humbly that you watch out for whoever chased her here."  The Beast thought for a moment before spinning back to the front foyer.  He called back with a sense of insecurity in his tone.

            "Nothing is out there, yet."

            "We'll send the rest of the candelabras out to watch for them," Cogsworth announced.  Lumiere nodded, saluted, and shouted to the walls for the lanterns to assemble.  One by one, the suspended fires arrived from the castle corridors and began lining the castle ledges.  For once, Beast did not feel safe in his fortress.  He did not feel alone, either.


	14. the monster changed

            By night fall, the candles and table clocks watching the castle front had decided that Belle had somehow eluded the angry mob.  However, inside she was still unable to speak, in a strong slumber but often waking with horrible dreams.  Finally, just as the manor was beginning to fall asleep once again, she sat straight up and began screaming horribly for her father.  "Belle!" Cogsworth exclaimed, the tea cart he paced upon racing towards the trembling maid.

            "Where's Papa?" she asked, throwing the blankets from her.

            "He's at your cottage in the village, dear," Ms. Potts quietly answered.  "We've been watching him by the mirror."

            "Can I see him?" she asked again, holding her brow.  Ms. Potts nodded soberly and motioned for the cloak rack to bring the enchanted glass.  The wooden post ambled over, carefully handing her the elegant handle.  "Show me my father," Belle asked the mirror quietly, and the reflection began to swirl.

            _"Do not fear, my friend," Lumiere said while marching on the nightstand next to Maurice's bed.  "You and I shall defend this castle until Gaston and his brainwashed followers are defeated."  The old inventor smiled nervously and nodded, pulling the heavy blanket over his ears._

_            "I hope so," Maurice sighed.  "Are you sure Belle is all right?"_

_            "But of course!" Lumiere saluted, little flames flaring up with enthusiasm, "she is with the Master, who is the most noble, brave, magnificent…"_

_            "He's a monster," Maurice quietly finished.  "Lumiere—how did he become like he is?"  There was a heavy pause as Lumiere looked to the edge of the table._

_            "Well, Maurice…"_

            "What are you doing!" the Beast uttered from the front hall, quickly striding over to snatch the mirror from Belle's grasp.  She shivered and fell back, more startled than frightened.  The vision was lost, and the Beast carefully set the mirror onto the tray.  "You saw you father was all right; that is all you need to see."  Belle gently cleared her throat, seeing he was about to disappear into the shadows.

            "Please, wait."  The Beast turned and looked back, blue eyes narrowed but watching.  "Please…tell me."  He began to walk again, but Ms. Potts rattled her porcelain top.  _I don't care what happens afterwards, or before, or any time...but I'm going to rescue her.  He sighed, slowly walking back towards her.  If she was ever going to love him, he couldn't keep pushing her away.  He came to her side and pulled the wool over her arms._

            "Long ago," he started softly as Belle listened with an open heart, "I used to be a horrible beast."  Each of his faithful servants also stopped to hear the tale.  "I used to think that the world was mine, and that I did not need anyone but myself.  Then, I was changed…I am still a monster…but now I realize I need someone other than myself."  He finished rather quickly and pulled his eyes away, hoping to hide the tears filling them.

            "I saw a portrait in the West Wing," she slowly whispered.  "Was that…once you?"  The heavy paw that had rested on her shoulder left, and he pulled away to the dark halls.  Ms. Potts gravely nodded in reply.

            "You've changed him, dear, more than any Enchantress could."  Belle began to cry, dropping her face into her open hands.

            "How can he not see…the transformation left him no longer a monster."


	15. night raid

                As night settled into the dark, magical garden before the grand castle, a series of soft lights began to line the terraces above the grand gate.  Beneath the tall candle stalks were eyes, narrowed and watching, for any sign of disturbance to alert the Master.  Very slowly, each of the candle holders leaned forward as a dark shadow approached the iron front.  The entry slowly opened and a cloaked figure stepped into the moonlight of the clearing.  "It's a girl," the first candelabra whispered, and the word passed down through the night watch.  "It's a girl!  It's a girl!"

                It was frigidly cold.  Bambi frowned under her hood as she continued down the center path to the great castle door.  As soon as she reached the frail rose bushes before the grand door, she threw the heavy cover back to reveal the thick black curls bouncing about her face, Belle's ribbon tied in them.  She cleared her throat and turned upon her heel.  "Hello!" she sang into the air, lifting her arms.  "Hello!  Beast?  Beast, are you there?"

                From inside the castle, Belle slimmed her eyes in confusion.  What was she doing?  Did they now know she had made it to the castle?  The light flickered in the foyer, and she gasped.  The Beast had seen her.  "What's going on?" his dark voice commanded.

                "Don't open the door!" Belle pleaded.

                "That poor girl—what if the village is after her as well?" Ms. Potts sighed.

                "It's a trap!" the maiden cried.

                "Let them come," The Beast ordered, stepping towards the light.  "Whether they come for me or her, I shall defend both."

                "Beast!" Bambi's faint voice called from outside.  "It's me!  Your Belle!"

                The door flew open as the cold rushed into the foyer.  The servants fled from the moonlight as the Master retreated to the stairs.  Belle furiously stormed to the imposter.  "What do you want?" she screamed, thrashing at her wildly.  "Why are you here!"  Bambi turned and faced her, smiling softly yet with a malicious sneer.

                "Sorry, Belle," she cooed, shrugging and stepping back towards the gates which had now opened with a flood of torch-bearing villagers.  "We knew we'd get one of you."  Before Belle's reaction could follow her horrified expression, two of Gaston's followers had her arms.  She struggled to pull herself free, screaming wild warnings to the manor behind her.  Suddenly, a quick hand slapped across her pale cheek, drawing blood from her sniffling nose.  She whimpered, falling limp in their grasp.

                "Shut up, you stupid whore!"  A clearing had formed around her of those who wished to spit upon the traitor before raiding the castle.  Gaston cracked his knuckles, jeering in disgust at her bruised face.  "What kind of sick lunatic loves a monster like that?"

                "He's…not a monster…"  They dragged her to the cart they had brought with shackles and chains waiting, the rest rushing inside to meet the raging Beast.


	16. man vs beast

                Inside, the cavernous castle had lost its previous warmth.  Although the heavy door had closed behind Gaston and his raging mob, chills fell from the tall ceilings.  Their frightened eyes scaled the shadows hanging from the staircase, hearing the shuffling of feet and clanging of metal but not being able to find the host of the dark palace.  Only the dim torch light of their flames reflected the fear in their faces.  Arrogance came over Gaston's insecurity as he began up the elegant yet faded marble steps.  "Beast?" he bellowed into the dark halls.  "Beast!  Come down here and face your fate!"  A crack of lightning split the sky and a silver flash filled the dark hall.  The villagers cowered with a whimper, huddling into the center of the foyer.

                "Gaston," Lefou whispered, pushing through the others, "Gaston!  Perhaps we should wait until…until it's light outside!"

                "I won't wait a minute longer!" Gaston screamed in reply.  "I've destroyed every book in the town!  I've taken every hope of…_dreams_ and _fantasies_ available to Belle, and she still believes in ridiculous nonsense because of this monster!"  A heavy snort came from the west end of the stairs' peak, and the throng cried out again.  Fueled by crazed adrenaline, Gaston sneered and faced where the sound had floated.  "That's right, you disgusting mutant."

                "Gaston!" Lefou pleaded.

                "Once upon a time there was a prince!" Gaston teased, slowly climbing the stairs.  The hall was a void, but they all could feel the Master's presence.  "He was a beautiful prince who had all he could ever want!"  A low, curling growl fell from the heavy breath as Gaston could see the wet of the creature's fired eyes waiting behind the rail.  "But one night, a horrible accident happened to him.  He was no longer beautiful.  He was no longer able to be loved.  In fact," Gaston boasted, spinning to face the blind followers who only moments before had pledged to stand behind him to fight the Beast.  "In fact, no one could even _look_ at the horrible mistake Nature had created."  Gaston cackled and pulled the bow from his back, looking into the abyss containing the hellish fiend.  "He stayed alone in his castle until finally, one brave soul decided to put him out of his pathetic misery."  The entire palace was silent but for the rapid hearts of the horrified villagers, Gaston's fading snicker, and the Beast's blood-chilling snarls.

                Outside, a few servants of the Master had come to Belle's rescue.  The coat hanger and tea tray with Cogsworth in command fumbled to remove the rusted chains.  "They've stormed the castle," Belle cried, ripping the shackles from her pale wrists.  "There's too many…"

                "The Master would never hurt a fly!" Cogsworth stuttered, yanking at the rope about her ankles.  "Although he does enjoy throwing things…and yelling…and if someone happened to point an arrow at his head, I doubt he would allow the attacker to—"

                "I won't let him die," Belle vowed, struggling to her feet.  "I won't let him die alone!"  She sprinted towards the closed doors, her help close behind.  Frantically, Belle pulled at the heavy door.  She could hear the muffled roars of the Master and felt the vibrations in the ancient wood.  _They're hurting him_, she thought, tearing even harder at the door.  Finally, with a sudden burst of wind, the latch was released and she stumbled back to shine moonlight into the grand hall.  

                She saw the faithful servants defending their home, throwing anything they could and fighting their best.  Her fellow citizens were running and screaming, unable to battle against the cursed objects.  Lost in the confusion, she focused on the clearing that had centered itself upon the stairs.  The Beast and Gaston were in a vicious fight, arrows flying past the twisted horns of the prince while his angry cries answered back in furious reply.  She could see a deep cut upon Gaston's arm and a slash over the Beast's shoulder.  Without thinking, she ran through the surrounding action and flung her frail form between the two.  Gaston dropped his bow immediately.  "Belle!" he demanded, "can't you ever stay put!"

                "What are you doing here?" the Beast sighed, panting, those sapphire pools narrowed in question.

                "This has to stop!" she cried, remaining as his guard.  "Gaston, you have to leave!  Now!"

                "I'm not leaving until this demon is dead and this castle is nothing but ruins!" he answered.  The Beast roared and lunged forward, Belle spiraling aside.  Gaston staggered back, thrusting a small spear into his side.  A painful howl rose from his throat.

                "Stop!" Belle cried once more, standing and running to his side.  Her heavy villain shoved her back with a quick slap, and she fell down the rest of the stairs to the floor in a cold, limp drop.  The prince could see her lifeless and tried to reach her.

                "Don't you touch her," Gaston spat, now in his way.  The Beast's gaze changed from worry to anger.  The challenger sneered in triumph at seeing his rage.  "That's right," he taunted.  "She's not yours.  She never was yours.  You don't deserve _anything_."  

                He was always a victim to his temper.  In a moment, the source of his fury was all he could see, as crimson red as the small pool that had collected on the marble floor around the young heroine's temple.


	17. finished for now

            Gaston was thrown across the center of the floor before he had a chance to breath.  The squabbles that had surrounded their main fight had stopped as their fearless and now conscienceless leader slid across the dusty floor.  With a heavy moan, he lifted his head and wiped his now dripping nose.  In only a few powerful strides, the Beast had nearly collapsed Gaston's wide chest.  He raised an open paw over Gaston's sweating brow, ready to take what little life was in him.                

                However, as always, his one and most effective weakness stole his moment.  Behind him, Cogsworth called out that Belle was not awake.  The prince turned at mention of his savior and rushed to her side.  The servants, now free of their enemies who had scattered into the night, backed away when they saw the fear and madness in their Master's cool blue eyes.  That same deadly paw that was inches away from taking the hunter's life hesitantly touched the spreading blood that had gathered about her loose brown curls.  It slowly cradled her in his open arms and supported her soft neck.  The abandoned castle was silent but for Gaston's struggled attempts to stand.  

                "Stupid lunatic," he grumbled, limping terribly as a fatal gash poured fluid at his side.  "Serves her right!"  Another flash of lightning erupted, and he was gone into the night to heal his damaging wounds.  All knew that he would soon be back with a more dangerous trap, more men, and of course, the right weapon to finish what he started.  These worries were far from his mind; all he could think about was Belle and the color quickly leaving her.

                "No," the prince whispered, "this isn't supposed to happen…"

                "This is all battle may bring," Ms. Potts quietly stated while her assistants hurried for clothes and water.  "Master, this cannot go on."

                "She was defending me!" he wept, huddled over her small body.  "Why…why would she risk her own life…"

                "Where is Lumiere?" Cogsworth whispered angrily to Mrs. Potts as the Master's words became slurred and unclear.  "The Master is losing his mind!"

                "Now now," Mrs. Potts calmed, stepping away from the two kindred souls, "don't loose hope.  Can't you see what's happening?  The Master and Belle continue to be hurt by those who oppose their friendship, yet neither has left the other!  They remain by each other's side, nursing one back to health until they are once again in need of each other!"  Cogsworth's face frowned in thought.  "Cogsworth," Mrs. Potts scolded, "they are showing true compassion!  True love!"

                "True love?" he repeated.  They both looked back to the Beast, who carried his fallen maid up the stairs while the servants followed with water and blankets.  Slowly, they faced each other again.  "How can true love exist in the middle of all this pain and anger?"

                "It's a miracle," she sniffed, the spout of her pot wrinkling under her teary eyes.  "What could be keeping him from loving her?"

                "Him?  From her?" Cogsworth exclaimed.  "Why, don't you think that—"

                "No," she replied flatly, following the shadow of his figure pass into the West Wing with Belle still in his arms.  "Belle knows how to love.  It is our prince who must learn."


	18. of love

                "You ran like FOOLS!" Gaston shouted in an angry moan from his place at the local tavern, now converted to his personal inn and town hall.  His bed—made completely from various animal bones, furs, and horns—was surrounded by timid men and tending nurses.  "Don't try and apologize!"

                "But Gaston," the blacksmith, Lucky, interrupted, "those knives flew right out of the drawers!  And the drawers threw them!"

                "Shut up," he yelled while tossing a pan of soup aside.  One of his blonde fans squealed and struggled to wipe up the mess.  "Give me my gun…I'm going to have the head of that beast on my wall if I have to kill every cursed thing in that castle first!"  He tried to stand but winced and immediately fell back against the pillow.

                "Gaston!" Bambi squeaked.  "Stay in bed until you're better!"

                "You can't tell me what to do!"  He tried again and failed with a painful scream.

                "Fine," she pouted.  He scowled, folding his arms.  "Go get your beast," she taunted, "but I'm not dragging your half-beaten—"

                "You won't have to," he icily bit.  "You'll be dragging that monster's head back to my wall."

*                             *                             *                             *                             *

                Belle stared blankly out of the grand picture window, watching the rain fall across the abandoned garden.  Her head ached in lull numbness, and she couldn't remember how she got to the oversized bed in which she was bundled with blankets and tea nearby.  She only recognized her surroundings as a part of the beautiful castle she had grown to love caring for, although she had never seen this part before.  It was clearly untouched by her; she would have cleaned the heavy curtains and gray spider webs lining the rich woodwork.  The dankness of the room scared her, but still the strange magic of the palace seemed deeper than ever.  Although this was foreign, she knew she was safe.  Lightning flashed again across the gray sky, and she blinked.  A reflection remained in the glass, and curious, she stood to try and find it.  She rubbed her brow; she had been hit, she remembered now.  The Beast!  With a gasp, she flew to the door.  It was locked.

                Fighting tears of not knowing how her savior faired, she threw a weak punch into the heavy wood.  Her eye caught that misplaced light on the window.  It came from the far corner of the room, centered in an orb of glowing luminance.  It enchanted her.  She slowly moved towards the small glass cover, seeing that same rose she had found before.  Her eyes widened—it was no longer red, but turning a deep burgundy.  The bright crimson petals had fallen and turned rigid.  A new flower was blooming, black as coal.  A rolling rumble was echoing down the hall; the Beast was returning.  She flew back to the bed, trying to fall asleep before he could rattle the door loose.  She remembered all too well the last reaction he had in discovering her discovering the strange rose, which seemed to be the source of the castle's enchantment.

                Silence fell before the door very quietly creaked open.  She could hear his heavy breath and feel his bright eyes checking to see if she was indeed still sleeping.  Belle shut her eyes tight as she heard his heavy robe sweep across the dusty floor.  With a sigh, he knelt at her beside.  

                "_Ange courageux_," he muttered, "what have I forced you to bear?  I took your father from you, then your freedom—now I jeopardize your very life."  Her eyes narrowed again with tears as she heard his empty weeping.  Seeing nothing but darkness, hearing only his quaking voice, she would think him to be a man with a true soul.  "I…I am more selfish than before…you could never…"  Her heart ached as his words trailed.  "Never love…"

                Love?  Belle tried to keep her breath steady.  Love?  He…loved her?  She heard a shuffling in the hall once again and immediately, the Beast stood.  A smile was fighting to curl her lip; he loved her.  She had never known such compassion as love, but who else would save her from her own?  Of course, he had been cold and cruel, but she could see a side of him others could not.  This was that very face of his many faces.  It was changing as his servants entered.

                "Master," she recognized as Lumiere, "I came as fast as…Belle!"

                "Where is her father?" the Beast asked.

                "He's safe, he's safe!  A few friends are watching him."  Belle released a sigh of relief.  "How is Madame?"

                "Still asleep…Lumiere, I can't keep her here.  What she did this night…"

                "We can't send her home, Master," Cogsworth added.  "Gaston will not return soon, but when he does, he will take her hostage for sure!"

                "Never," the Beast growled.  He looked back to her sleeping body, now slowly stirring.  "She cannot leave.  You all must make her comfortable here so that she will not try and return home."  Belle frowned slightly in her sleep.

                "A pleasure, Master," Lumiere replied, "but have you thought of perhaps asking that she stay until you both might…"

                "No.  No, she stays for her own safety, which is all…"

                "Master," Cogsworth muttered, "have you lost all hope?"

                "Hope…" he moaned.  There was an odd pause before he spun towards the door.  "Take that out of here," he commanded darkly.  She could hear them shuffling towards the rose.  No, she thought, it was the only source of light she had.  "When she wakes, which will be soon, make her dinner.  Give her a new gown—let her have the castle again."  In a moment, he was gone.

                "He can't give up now."

                "You should see the bond between them!"

                "They're both so close…we're all so close!"

                He loved her.


	19. reflection

                Belle had a cup of warm tea and wonderfully thick soup.  She wasn't sure what had happened, but decided it was only a cut because her headache was fading.  The dresser had given her a gown in lilac, and she had taken a place by the fire.  She had been presented the grand library by the Beast days before and then vowed to his smile she would read every one.  He slowly crept into the grand den.  She glanced up.  "I…"

                "You're all right," he mumbled.  She nodded, smiling softly.

                "Thank you so much for all you've done," she gushed, setting the book aside.  "I…I can't believe what I…"

                "Belle, I have to keep you here."  She blinked as he slowly lowered near the fire.  "This goes beyond your father's debt, which…which I have to forgive.  I can't let you go home now with that madman."

                "I don't want to go."  The servants listening in the curtains gasped.  "I want to stay with you."  The Beast tore his eyes from the fire.  "You're the only friend…I've…had."

                "A friend?"  He sounded surprised.

                "You saved my life.  Twice."

                "Only repaying what you did unto me," he answered rather quickly, looking back to the fire.  Her expression faded slightly, hurt.  His own revealed the regret in his saying. 

                "I would do it again," she softly admitted.

                "It's not safe for you to…"  Belle waited as his voice trailed.  "You shouldn't feel like you have to…"  He slowly turned to face her.  Seeing the expectation in her eyes he immediately stared back into the fire.  "Thank you."  She smiled secretly, opening the book again.  She had caught his attention.  

                "Have you read this one?" Belle asked, lifting the cover.  He shook his head nervously.  "It's one of your bests—what's your favorite?"

                "I…I don't have one."  She wasn't convinced by his tone.

                "Can…can you read?" she asked quietly.  He hid his sapphire eyes; he was raised that books were a sign of wealth to look at, not much for purpose.  He was eased to feel her gentle hand pull his wide arm towards her with a warm smile.  "Let me read to you until I can teach you."

                "You…don't have to…"

                "I want to," she finished.  "You don't know what you're missing."  He saw the stars in her eyes as she found her place in the story, and there he released any hindrance keeping her from his heart.  She feared not his paw but believed in his eyes.

                "What a picture," Ms. Potts sighed dreamily, "the fire, the Master, and our Belle…they were meant to be together!  They have to know it now."

                "It's just lovely," Cogsworth muttered, strolling behind the curtain in pure joy.  Lumiere suddenly, grabbed his boxed body, holding it so the firelight reflected in the glass case of his cupboard.  "What are you doing!"

                "Look!" Lumiere exclaimed, and all three stared into the glass reflection.  They saw the fire, sweet Belle…and the prince.  Cogsworth lost his breath.  Ms. Potts felt tears flood her eyes.  There, the young man of twenty and few years, with honeyed hair falling over a fine-featured, softly sculpted face.  Under his worn rags was a man's body, fit and strong, nervously close to Belle's own figure.  It had been years since any had seen their beloved Master's true appearance.  "His…his reflection…it is…it is…"

                "It has begun," Ms. Potts beamed.  "The love of friendship has been exchanged."


	20. to be done

            Three years past in the castle as quickly as any might wish them too.  Belle's father was soon forced to remain in the castle as well, given his resources to invent still and remain happy, for his cottage and workshop were burned to the ground by the powerful Gaston.  The mayor of the village, the only looming darkness Belle and Beast had to fear, had given up on his attacks for now.  They all could feel that he was plotting, dreaming up some nightmare to finally kill the Beast in his vulnerable state.  Most of the castle, however, was distracted by the slowly progressing friendship of the master and mistress of the palace.  While the Beast tried to subdue the deep, passionate feelings he had for sweet and beautiful Belle, she fought to try and understand, try and find the prince that was before the monster.  They were both working so quickly towards the wonderful new heaven their love would take them.  Three years had done much, but the servants were growing restless.

                "I don't understand," Lumiere muttered while pacing upon the stairs to the West Wing.  "We were told we would be changed by his twenty-first year!"

                "We were told if he fell in love, we would change," Cogsworth matter-of-factly corrected.

                "He is twenty-four," Ms. Potts sighed.  "Can't you see we will remain like this forever now?"

                "Do not give up hope, _madame_," Lumiere swiftly replied, "The rose has bloomed again, but already black and dying."

                "We must plan a siege!" Cogsworth exclaimed.  "The anniversary of Belle's arrival is tomorrow—if we can make a romantic, sweetly lovely night for them…"

                "They might just take the final step," Ms. Potts murmured.

                "A fine dinner," Lumiere gasped, "with candlelight!"

                "The old orchestra in the ball room can play a waltz," Ms. Potts smiled.

                "They will overlook the gardens by moonlight," Cogsworth giggled.

                "The master must agree to it," Lumiere stated, hopping up the stairs.

                "Where are you going?" Cogsworth demanded.

                "To the back room!  I'm going to tell the Master our plan!"  The others shuffled behind him.  "We can only pray that he'll agree to it!"

                They very quietly peeked past the door into the dark room of the West Wing.  The black rose had been once again placed near the balcony, the moonlight casting an eerie aura about its soft light.  The Beast, however, was not there.  Instead, the three servants crept across the wooden floor to find him in the corner, gazing helplessly into a portrait which had surprisingly escaped one of his many raging fits of destruction.  It was one of the more recent pictures in which the prince was poised in that very room, sitting in a lush velvet chair that had long ago been ripped to shreds.  He was in a bright blue suit, lined in gold, a hand curled over the arm of the chair bearing a golden ring his lupine fingers could no longer contain.  One thick claw ran over the face of the prince, a smart smile gleaning back at the hopeless beast.

                "Master?" Lumiere gently called.  The Beast did not reply.  "Master, in observing your relations with our lovely mistress Belle, we can only suggest that you might try and earn her most honest affections with—"

                "It's too late."  Cogsworth, Lumiere, and Ms. Potts looked to each other with failing expressions.  "I can't ask for anything more than what she has given me."

                "Master," Cogsworth attempted, "Have you considered perhaps…breaking…the spell?"  The Beast suddenly turned, thrashing forward as if to protect the memory of the picture.  "Just a suggestion," he immediately added.

                "Don't you understand?" the Beast snorted.  "It's over!  I've decided I'm done!"  He pulled the picture forward and thrust it towards them in his crazed grasp.  "Look at this disgusting beast!"  The servants cowered in confusion as his wide arms trembled.  "I can never be him again."  He hurled the entire frame over their heads, it crashing into the remains of a mirror and shattering a vase.  They all winced.

                "Master?" Lumiere tried.

                "No," the Beast gasped.  "It's over.  Tonight, I want Belle to remain downstairs.  In the morning, you…you can tell her the castle is hers."  If any color could drain from their organic faces, it could reflect the horror in their expressions.  They were too shocked to say another word.  The Beast lowered to his knees, covering his face. 

                "No," Lumiere whispered.


	21. the fragile end

                She threw the door behind her closed, ripping the cloak from her shoulders and tossing it angrily onto the floor.  "This is madness!" she screamed, thrashing about the foyer with fury.  The servants came to her call, gathering in front of the stairs as a sort of barricade.  Belle had never been so frustrated.  The whispers didn't distract her from her own fit.

                "Should we tell her?"

                "We can't tell her."

                "What if she wants to see him?"

                "We must follow Master's orders!"

                "The whole village is madness!" Belle shrieked, storming into the den and throwing sand into the meager fire.  It roared back to life.  "I can't keep creeping around there—one day, they're all going to kill us all.  Gaston has gone too far for sure.  The bookstore, the market…it's all gone.  Where is my father, Lumiere?"

                "He has retired early, Madame."

                "And the Beast?"  She stopped, seeing the slight confusion on their faces.  Her voice calmed a bit.  "Where is the Beast?"

                "He's in low spirits tonight, dear," Ms. Potts softly explained.  "He's…"  Belle watched as her eyes began to tear up.  "He's been all alone up there and told us not to let you see him."

                "We only wanted to make everything right again!" Cogsworth blurted, "A little music, a little dinner!"  Belle suddenly sprinted forward, nearly tripping up the stairs to break through the fence of knick-knack servants. 

                "Beast!" she cried, running towards the West Wing.  "Beast!"  The door was barred shut.  She ripped at the wood, tearing it away plank by plank.  The heavy handle gave through, and she fell into the darkness.  There was a curved shadow near the balcony where the rose remained.  She slowly stepped forward, hands trembling as she caught her own pale reflection in the glass.  "Are…are you here?"  No answer.  She moved closer to the cape fluttering in the wind of the open terrace.  "Beast?"  Suddenly, she stopped.  There was a pool seeping from the other side of the small table—her slipper was filling with blood.  She screamed a horrific cry, sending all the servants toward the forgotten hall.  She pulled an already torn drapery from the broken banister on the wall and flung it over the defeated corpse of the Beast.  Her tears poured over him as she searched for his demise.  A small dagger, in his side.  No, she told herself, it was too small.  He was too strong.  She pulled it free.  His body sort of heaved and turned for a small leaf of paper to be revealed.  It was gripped tightly in his paw.  Wiping her eyes, Belle found enough sanity to read over the running words.  It was from a book—her favorite.  Her expression twisted into agony as she heard the lines recited.

                "He looked upon her with a light in his eyes, drawing near her with no hindrance for the first time in heart and hand." 

                Lumiere, Ms. Potts, Cogsworth, and the rest all gathered around with a sober respect mixed with sorrowful guilt as she cried.

                "She had," Belle continued through streaming eyes and a cracking voice, "She had accepted him for who he had wanted to become while knowing what he had once been.  'You loved me before you knew I was a prince and believed me to be nothing more than a shepherd,' he told her, taking her gentle hands, 'Will you love me now that I have changed before your eyes?'

                'I will love you forever, whether you are a shepherd or a king,' she promised with laughter.  It was an enchanted promise.  She knew fate had led her to him, and she had taught his innocent heart how to love and be loved in return when the entire world had doubted.  He saw in her beauty where others found a lost dream.  She saw in him a prince where others found one who belonged…with beasts."

                It was silent.

                Belle looked upon the fallen crown of the prince, the Beast…she recalled the time she had awoken in his care.  His words were so frail.  He had faced his fear to love her.  Now she must to the same.  She threw her shaking frame onto his shoulders, weeping deeply. 

                "I understand," she whispered, "I understand it all."  She felt the light of the black rose cast upon her and broke her mourning only to thrash the glass to pieces, the rose crumpling onto the floor.  The servants cried out, rushing forward. 

                "She's mad!" Lumiere exclaimed.

                "The spell!" Ms. Potts answered, trying to revive the flower.

                "Stay away!" Belle ordered, nearly in hysterics.  They returned to the doorway.  She returned to her prince.

                "I loved you," they heard her mutter over his closed eyes.  "I loved you and owe you everything."

                "Is it over?" Ms. Potts whispered.  "Is it really over?"

                "Look," Cogsworth whimpered, pointing to his transparent door.  They all crowded around not to block the image cast in its mirror.  Belle and the beautiful prince, as shown before, and with him in her arms, not a sweeter nor sadder image was ever framed.


	22. first time

Note—not finished yet! :D        

                Cogsworth tapped on Lumiere's shoulder.  "Do you see him?  Maybe it's not too late!"  He tried to position himself so that more of the image was cast in the glass.  "Lumiere?"  He looked up and yelped.  A candelabra stood inanimate where his friend had once been.  Shocked, he looked to Ms. Potts.  A teapot was standing still, nothing more.  "What's happening…" he muttered, looking towards Belle for help.  "Belle!"

                "What?" she slowly moaned, lifting her head.  Her eyes widened from their tears as she saw her friends lying lifeless.  She stood, the dagger falling from her lap.  "Cogsworth—Ms. Potts!"  Was everything she ever loved in the past few years leaving her?  She looked down on the back of the Beast.  This is what he had chosen: to leave her brokenhearted.  Belle somehow felt responsible.  She slowly reached down to her feet and lifted the dagger.  The rose lying broken to her left seemed only to encourage her.  Positioning the tip above her heart, she closed her eyes and gave the happy dagger its sheath.

                Instead of blood pouring from her breast, she found a depth of light.  It gave her no pain.  Confused, she watched it fill the room, dropping the weapon and staggering back.  It had swallowed the Beast, blinding her and bringing her to her knees.  No, she screamed in her mind, I wanted to die!  A hand wrapped itself about her sloped shoulder.

                "Stand, Beauty."  She lifted her narrowed eyes to see none other than the Beast's savior, the Enchantress.  Her lip trembled in fear of the angel.  Behind her, the Beast was standing, or at least lifted from the cold ground, his cape swirling about him as if to keep him from her sight.

                "What are you doing to him?" she asked, trying to walk.

                "Giving him back what he tried to take."  Belle watched the dagger life between her and the Vision.  With a mere twist of the Sorceress's hand, it burst into a rose, bright and red, in full bloom.  Belle staggered back.

                "What does this mean?  I…I don't understand."

                "Yes, you do," the Enchantress smiled.  "You told him you did."

                "He's dead!" she cried, lashing out.  "Give me his body, please!" 

                "The cage is no longer his."  The rose moved towards Belle, and she took it in her gentle grasp.  The Enchantress strode forward to place a kiss upon her brow.  She stepped aside and revealed the Beast, standing on his own feet…but wait.  Those were not the lupine paws she knew.  They were the feet of a man.  Her mind raced as she rushed forward, reaching up to touch the sculpted shoulder of a young prince.  It was human, this stranger was human!  He turned and their eyes met.  Her heart swelled as she recognized the blue stardust in his eyes.  The rest was slowly becoming natural.

                "It's you," she mumbled, seeing the torn clothes the Beast once wore.  "It's…it's what you used to be…"

                "Belle, I…"  His voice had changed.  It was softer, more of what she recognized that cold night she had been rescued.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry, but I didn't see…"  He looked down at his own body.  "But…I'm here…"

                "I love you," she smiled, taking his hand, "that's why!"

                "You loved me before you knew I was a prince?"  She laughed and threw herself into his arms, for once feeling their proportion to that which she knew was right.  In his embrace, she didn't see the golden light wash over the castle.  She didn't hear the joyous laughter of the servants lifting their former bodies and tossing them aside.  "Belle," he whispered, taking her tear-stained face into his now gentle hands.  "Will you love me now…now that I've changed before your eyes?"

                "Forever," she answered, now laughing with her own manic joy.  "Forever!"

                They turned and looked over the castle restored, the apparition of the Enchantress spreading her arms over the overgrown lawns now blooming with beauty and life.  The prince was overcome with awe as he watched his former glory be restored.  Now he had Belle at his side.  He stepped into the dawning light for the first time in six years as a man, and for the first time in twenty-five in love.


	23. tale as old as time

                Lumiere stood with Ms. Potts on his arm, smiling as Cogsworth chattered like he used to over a plate of muffins.  They were surrounded by friends, dressed in gowns and coats they had not fit in years.  The orchestra was holding their former selves, playing a sweet melody of pure happiness.  "I will cherish every day that comes," Ms. Potts sighed as Chip ran—actually ran—past them. 

                "Amazing," Maurice mumbled, eyes rolling over the magnificent castle restored to every bit of its youthful hope.  "Amazing that this is all so _enchanted_."

                "Love is a magical thing," Cogsworth droned, pulling at his mustache with a newfound pride.  "Well, I'm quite used to not having hands spinning about my nose," he muttered, "Yes; love is terribly and wonderfully enchanted."

                Suddenly, the strings halted on a pivotal chord.  The doors of the enormous ballroom opened, and the heavy fragrance of roses washed in from the back garden.  Belle entered in the most fantastic golden gown, truly as a princess should be.  At her arm was the prince, smiling with every nimble step he was able to take.  They stopped, seeing the pure ecstasy on the staff's faces.  Maurice stepped forward to form a respected bow.  "All of this," the prince began, taking both her hands in his, "All of this is yours.  You are the reason they are free!"

                "I only loved a prince," she smiled gently.

                "Loved a prince, yes," he repeated, "and taught the stars above this castle to shine once again."  He drew her into a deep kiss, the first the two had shared but with all the power Love could wish.

                The ballroom erupted into cheers as the music struck again, and the prince danced with his beauty.


End file.
